The Pale Garden

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2026-08-18 14:54:47 -

The Pale Garden

The banquet hall smelled of wax and old blood. Candlelight trembled on the high ceiling. It caught the dust motes. They danced in the air. They danced like dead things. Captain Elias Thorne stood in the corner. He held his glass. The crystal was cold. His fingers were red. Not from the wine. From the strain. He had held the door for three hours. He had held the peace. The men of the Ironwood...

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